Aftermath
by Ashley A
Summary: Set after BTVS season 7/ATS season 4. Buffy comes to L.A. to see Angel. Beautiful angst ensues.


Authors note:  this fic takes place a few days after BTVS season 7/ATS season 4.  Buffy comes to see Angel in L.A. after the destruction of Sunnydale.

Please yes feedback!!!  I am a feedback whore.

Disclaimer:  I don't own anyone, yada yada.  All quoted lines from various Angel/Buffy eps are the property of their various authors.  I get no money from this, just intelectual enrichment (sort of!)

Enjoy.

     The waves lap gently at the shore, almost reaching his bare feet.  Moonlight dances off the waves, reflecting on the angles of his face and hair.

     Dark clothing clashes with the white of his feet, pant legs rolled up in case of larger waves.  He contemplates his feet as he walks slowly down the deserted beach, not really wanting to think of anything more heavy than _wow, white toes._

     The past week has been, to put it midly, rough on Angel.  Post Jasmine, and he's still feeling the affect of her absence.  _Weird_, he thinks.  _I thought the trip to Sunnydale would give me a chance…a break.  Guess not.  And seeing Connor…_

He puts a stop to that thought right NOW before it goes any further.  _Won't go there.  Won't go there at all.  _Too much has transpired in the last few days for him to process it all.  And seeing Buffy, well, that didn't go exactly as planned.

     Spike smell.  Spike all over her.  His scent almost overwhelming her sweet one.  

     He shudders slightly, not being able to stop this freight train.  The two of them, together.  _Not your place to chastise her, maybe she needed comforting…and you haven't exactly been available lately._

No.  He hasn't.  But when in God's name did she have the chance to develop a…relationship? with Spike?  And how in the hell did he get a soul?  

     Angel readily admits to himself that his conversation back in Sunnydale with Buffy was a bit childish, but as he himself put it, _Getting the brushoff for Captain Peroxide doesn't exactly bring out the champion in me._

The sound of feet slowly walking behind him in the wet sand makes him tear his eyes away from his toes.  Turns at a snail's pace to face her.

     "Hey," she says, a small smile gracing her lips.

     Even though he has an inkling who it was that had been following him, he's still shocked to see her actually standing there.  He had seen the news, knew basically what had happened in Sunnydale.  Wasn't sure if there was a point in trying to contact her, or one her brood.  Honestly he hadn't known how.

     He just stares at her at first, her small smile gradually wilting into a frown of worryment.  Then he does the only thing he can do.

     He crosses the short distance between them, and takes her in his arms.

     Her face lights up, and she hugs him back, with enough strenghth to crush a car.

     They stay this way for what seems an enternity, he just breathing her in, she resting her head in the crook of his neck, not needing to speak.

The stars shine down on them as they sit together on the packed sand, hands entwined.  

"And the whole thing just…dissappeared?  Like there was nothing left?" he asks her, still slightly confused.  

"Not nothing.  A crater almost the size of the Grand Canyon.  And then nothing," she repeats; speaking of the end of her home still rips at her heart even now.  And her lost friends, the girls, Spike…  She can't say his name just yet, not even to Angel.  Somehow he seems to know, though.  They are still connected, after all this time.

"I'm sorry.  About not being there," he tells her, frowning slightly, not wanting to meet her gaze.  She puts a hand up.  "Angel, I sent you away.  I was right to do it.  I don't know if I could have succeeded if I was constantly worrying about what could happen to you," she argues, knowing she was in the right to do what she did.  _And would it have been easier to lose him than the other?  The one who's never coming back this time?  _She shakes her head a little, as if trying to dispell thoughts she can't quite seem to subdue.

Angel finally looks at her, and gently puts his left arm around her shoulders, still holding her right hand in his.  

"It was a great sacrifice he made.  I don't know if this makes it any easier on you, but I know he would want you to honor that.  Don't regret it," he stops, unsure of how to say what's next on his mind.

"Buffy, you know Spike and I never really saw eye to eye," he laughs at this, realizing how understated the comment is, "but if this is any indication of how much he'd changed, then it's a good thing.  The right thing.  I can't tell you what it's like to exist purely for forgiveness.  There's no way to explain it.  But I think if Spike was really willing to do what he did, he is forgiven now.  And even I don't know what that feels like…and I honestly envy him for it.  Wherever he is," he finishes, not sure if she understands him.  For him to speak this way about his onetime rival and enemy is a big deal.  Big time big deal.  But he would do it any number of times to comfort this woman sitting with him now.  Only she matters.  And the more he thinks about it, the more he is surprised to find that he actually believes his own words.  He smiles to himself, _is this the same man who killed two slayers?  Saddled with a soul?  And managed to beat me to atonement?  _He is slightly ashamed of this last thought, but lamely realizes he is jealous.

Jealous that Spike got to be with her.  With his soul mate, and not just spend time with her.  Be with her, in all senses.  

He abruptly stands, dropping her hand.  Walks away from her.  _Damn, I'm jealous of Spike?  SPIKE!!??_

"Angel, are you alright?" she follows him, and he stops walking, but keeps his back turned.  Not wanting her to see the tears of rage and frustration that have begun to seep slowly down his face.  First Cordy, then Connor, now this…_no more, _he thinks, _please God, let me be._

"Damn it!"  He yells suddenly.  She flinches, as if he has hit her.

"What is it?" she runs to him, puts her hand on his shoulder as he turns toward her.  Her soul splits in two again at the look on his face.  _It can't be just the Spike thing, I've never seen this look on his face…well, once, through the smoke and flickering lights from police cars and fire engines, I saw this face, this hurt.  It looks like Goodbye._

"I…Buffy, I can't…I don't know how…" he can't get it out.  Doesn't know how to tell her.  In all their history together, he was always the one she ran to.  He can't burden her with his problems now.  She doesn't need any more.  _I don't need any more, either, _a little voice whispers to him.

She is stricken, so lost, she doesn't know what to do for him.  She takes his hand in hers, and raises it to her lips.  Holds it there, and tries not to cry on it, tries not to feel his pain.  _I'd see you if I were blind.  _

"Angel, please, what can I do?" she asks, _please let him tell me, I can't stand to see the desperation in his beautiful eyes._

He finally breaks, and lets the tears fall in earnest.

"We need to talk.  There are some things…some things I need you to hear.  Can you do that for me?"

She nods once.  "You know I can.  Anything."

He leads her by the hand to a nearby patch of dry sand, and after a brief deep but unneccessary breath begins to tell his soul mate the story of the last 6 months of his life.

She holds him close, slightly rocking him, trying to soothe him.  She doesn't know if she can; hell, she doesn't know if she can soothe herself.  They sit silently together, warriors, survivors of all that life could throw at them.

A lost son, a lost family, a lost calling.  What will they do now?  She doesn't know.  Honestly she doesn't think she cares at this moment.  All that matters is to be with him, to care for him as he has always taken care of her. 

The sky is tinged with red, and he stirs in her arms.

"Time to go in," he says tiredly.

"Yeah," she answers, stoking his face, making him look at her.  "You ready?" 

He gazes at her for a long moment.  Can they make it?  He doesn't know what will happen next, or doesn't care.  He only knows that without her here with him, the rest of his life would crumble to dust like it feels his heart already has.  He has to be strong.  For Fred.  For Wesley.  For Cordy.  For Connor.  

_I really do love you, son._

_Yeah?  What are you gonna do about it?_

_Prove it._

They stand together, her small frame supporting his much larger one.  They head back up the beach, toward his car.  He trudges up the stairs, but she stops, staring toward the ocean.  

"Buffy?  You coming?"

"I'll be there in sec."

She hears him get in the car, shutting the door so the newly rising sun won't touch him accidentally.  She knows she will stay with him a while, to help him make it through the coming weeks. She knows Dawn will be okay with their dad.  And as for herself…

She watches the sun burst forth as from the depths of the ocean, a shining never changing beacon that seems to warm her very insides.  A tiny smile chases across her face.

_I love you._

_No you don't, but thanks for saying it._

Was he right?  She knows she loves him, loved him.  But Angel is right.  His sacrifice will not be in vain.

She looks one more time at the sun, and thanks Spike for the gift of being able to see its face again.

"Goodbye, my friend," she whispers to him.

Then she climbs the stairs to the waiting GTX, to the side of the man she knows she loves too, and who so desperately needs her now.  She won't abandon him.

She takes the wheel, and pulls out of the beach front parking lot, ready to face whatever life will throw at them next, and she realizes for the first time since Sunnydale was destroyed that she will make it.  

_Come on, throw me that fastball.  I can take it._

She smiles at her vampire love in the back seat, who is crouched down to avoid stray rays of sun.  He smiles weakly back at her, and touches her shoulder.

Angel and Me.  We can take it.  Together, we can take anything.

He smiles at her, knowing she is thinking the same thing he is.  

With her at my side, anything is possible.

The big car lumbers down the street, away from the beach and the rising sun, and into the maze of streets that is L.A. 


End file.
